


Play It Cool

by discountghost



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: ...and they were roommates, Alternate Universe - College/University, Astrobiology Major!Wooyoung, Botany Major!San, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gay For You, Homophobia, I don't make the rules that's just how it is, M/M, San is Thicc, Woosan, can you say "gay panic"?, cawllection, lissen i needed some out there majors, or maybe just gay, with a floral management minor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:04:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountghost/pseuds/discountghost
Summary: We ought to be careful about the favors we ask of others.





	Play It Cool

**Author's Note:**

> oops i did it again

“You remember that favor you owe me?”

San’s brows furrowed. Perched by the window of their dorm, he’d been reading. Partly. The rest of his attention had been between his phone and the people below crossing the campus. “Yeah?” The light streamed in a little too much, further darkening his expression as the other strained to make eye contact.

Wooyoung wouldn’t say that he’d been backed into a corner, but he kinda had been. It was only a matter of time before he would have to resort to this, so why not get it over with. “And you remember that god awful prank your sister’s boyfriend asked us to do?” To be fair - how could either of them forget? It had been a horrendous idea that had ended the way both boys had predicted it would: terribly.

But they might have remembered the whole thing for different reasons. Wooyoung’s stomach churned as San’s eyes narrowed, the other slipping off the ledge. “What about it?”

“I might need to you do something similar.”

“What? No way.”

Of course, that was the response he’d get. He should have expected as much. San hadn’t been all too pleased during the prank, if he remembered right. “Please? Just once.”

“No.”

Wooyoung bit down his lip, clambering over the couch. “You _owe_ me, remember?”

“I can still reject requests like this, you know.”

Okay, true but - “I’m desperate. I swear I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t.”

San seemed to contemplate this. Brows drawn, Wooyoung waited with bated breath as the other thought it through. “Like, seriously desperate.” For good measure, he tacked on, “I’m begging you, San, _please_.”

“Jesus, relax. It’s not the end of the world.” San sighed, rolling his eyes as if he couldn’t believe himself. “What is it?”

“You’re a godsend. Remember that guy from my level three Calc class last term?”

“The one that started hitting on you when you sat next to him that one time?”

“Yeah, that one. He’s in another of my classes and won’t leave me alone - _again_ \- so I sorta told him I was dating someone. I.e. someone not a dude.”

“So why didn’t you ask one of the girls in your class?”

“Do you honestly expect that any one of them would agree to this?”

San paused and Wooyoung looked up to see why. There was a look he couldn’t quite decipher before the other ducked his head as if to pay attention to his book again. “So when am I supposed to be doing this?”

“Anytime. Just...sooner rather than later; he’s getting pretty aggressive.” The furrow of San’s brows deepened. He knew that look. San was going to say something more, but Wooyoung would really rather he not worry like that. “Nothing serious, though. Asked for my number and I caved, sorta; he maybe got Yeosang’s number instead.”

“Did you at least warn him before you did that?” There was a hint of laughter in his tone, but it could be deceiving. How many times had he snuck up on him with a heavy topic like this before?

“I mean I did...but after the first text.”

There was a soft thud as San’s head met the window behind him, too busy practically cackling to notice. The nervous coil of Wooyoung’s stomach unwound. He figured he’d just been nervous about the prospect of asking this of San. It had seemed more like something that wasn’t so much a big deal, but - they had done something like this before. The memory of it seemed to haunt them both.

 

“So he just agreed to it?” Yeosang seemed a lot more relieved than Wooyoung had expected him to be. Maybe he’d gotten tired of deflecting for him. Couldn’t blame him. 

Wooyoung nodded. “I had to kinda beg, but yes.” A shrug followed. It hadn’t been much begging, but it was begging all the same. If he’d really had to, he would have gladly gotten on his knees to convince San to do this.

“And you’re sure this has nothing to do with that thing that happened that one time?”

“Absolutely positive. Who do you take me for?”

The look he was given was dubious, at best, but nothing was said for a moment. He smacked Yeosang’s bicep, earning a returned whack that somehow spiraled into a small slap fight as they walked. The only thing stopping them was a familiar voice just behind them, “You gays can’t fight like that here.”

“There’s only one gay in this pair and it’s not me.”

Hongjoong’s grin was wide as he slung his arms - with some effort and walking a bit more on the tips of his toes - around the pair’s shoulders. “So, I hear we got San in on the plan.”

Yeosang looked devastated. “Wait, did he know before me?”

“Yep!” There was an especially stressed pop of the ‘p’ to that yep. 

“But you used _my_ number to swerve on that guy!”

Wooyoung interjected before the other could start sulking. “It was his plan from the start. That’s the only reason he even knew before you.” There was a nod from both he and Hongjoong, but Yeosang didn’t seem impressed. He shrugged off Hongjoong’s arm and walked ahead a bit faster.

Likely not the best idea as the two behind him began to coo about their baby being upset all the way to class. 

 

Wooyoung probably could have been more specific about the timing of this whole thing. Leaving an open window of time was meant to make San more comfortable with the idea, but it left him feeling the strikes of anticipation. Every class period next to Tyler was about as uncomfortable as the last. A polite ‘no’ didn’t ever seem strong enough to derail him trying to walk Wooyoung back to his dorm or the odd invitation to start project work - which was still three weeks away from being officially assigned on the syllabus of their Physics course. 

It was where he was when he felt the fingers twine with his own. He jerked forward, though it was more like he was thrown forward with the weight of someone. Dumbstruck was one word for how he was feeling when he turned to look at this new offender. 

San had never been one to pull punches. Halfway done tasks had irked him for as long as Wooyoung had known him. Which is why it shouldn’t have been any surprise that the smiling face at his side carried so much of his roommate. Maybe larger eyes and fuller lips - but it was San. His stomach did a weird flip just before relief sank in. Odd. 

The feeling of a layer of gloss sticking to his jaw lasted long after San’s lips left him and the other rubbed at the spot. “Sorry, babe. This tint is a little easier to rub off than I thought.” His voice had to be towards the higher octaves, sounding dangerously close to the way he spoke to Shiber. A shudder might have gone through him, but his fascination with the creature in front of him was interrupted by a throat clearing. 

Right. Tyler was still here. 

“This the girlfriend?” His smile was small, but not much else. Did he not buy it?

The mop of San’s red and black hair had been straightened, one side pinned back with bobby-pins to allow him to be able to see. The lip gloss he’d rubbed off of Wooyoung before was tinted a cherry color. He was sensing a theme. Especially in the choice of a t-shirt he suspected was his tucked neatly into a red plaid skirt. 

Wait. 

His stomach did that odd flip again as his gaze dropped down to the skirt in question. Wooyoung had a - admiration? fixation? appreciation - for the way it clung to San’s thighs. Not quite a miniskirt, it was short enough to maybe be spotty on one of those arbitrary finger length tests he’d heard about in one of his sociology classes. But it was enough that it left his throat dry, nodding in response to the question.

“Yeah, yeah. This - this is San.” The other gave a little wave, smile bright. His fingers around Wooyoung’s tightened.

The older of the two seemed...pleased. Huh. “Cool.” Okay, maybe not if he was going to respond with a single word. “So, like I was saying, you could come for the party. San’s invited, as well.”

“We would love to but -”

“Sure.”

Wooyoung shot him an incredulous look. San’s response was easily played off, distracting from the rift the other’s reaction may have caused in their performance, “Gotta make sure there isn’t someone that might try to steal you away from me.”

Their observer laughed, ducking his head. Good; he should be ashamed. “Well, that’s great. It’s at nine tonight, my place. I’ll text you the address.” Tyler gave another nod, gaze lingering on San for a moment before ambling off his own way.

“You’ve just doomed us.”

 

“Will you relax? It’s just a party.”

Wooyoung didn’t think it was _just_ a party. It had dangers of being exposed as the frauds that they were and he’d be back to square one and - “Is that a wig?”

The hair was curly, a sunset of reds and oranges that matched the same colors on the other’s face. He didn’t focus too long on San’s lips, gaze darting back up to his roommate’s eyes. They looked bigger. Maybe false eyelashes? San _really_ was going all in for this. Pink dusted his cheeks as San tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, it is. It was one of my classmates; I asked her for help.”

“You _told_ someone already?” Their cover was already blown.

San sighed, rolling his eyes. “Again - relax. She thought it was for a prank and I rolled with it.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong. Wooyoung’s shoulders sagged as he sunk further into the couch. He glanced over at the other once more, taking in his attire. Was there some sort of rule that had to be followed in this, where San _had_ to make up for his obvious lack of cleavage with an unfair focus on his ass? Because that’s really all Wooyoung can see with how tight the man’s pants are. Striped, they made the curve of rearend a sight from heaven (he thinks this in the most bro way possible) and his thighs...were another topic for discussion at a later date when he wasn’t watching them come closer to him. He noted, belatedly, that the heels were a nice touch because they do, in fact, make the other’s legs look longer.

“You’re ready, right?” San turned away again, leaning forward in the mirror to make sure his earrings are secure. Wooyoung had to make sure he was breathing correctly when he turned back around. Nodding in response, he closed his eyes. Time to suck it up and pretend to be a couple with San. In that outfit.

 

It was like any other party, but he couldn’t help feeling on edge. Not even after he’d downed his third drink, red cup empty and almost begging to be filled again. He’d been watching San from his perch by the “punch” bowl for the last ten minutes. The other laughed, head thrown back slightly. Wooyoung realized a moment later that he’s been talking to Tyler for much of the time he’d been watching, gaze following the way he shifted his weight. His smile looked a little more forced and he knew that smirk on Tyler’s face from experience. _You’ve got to be kidding me._

He’d understood Tyler to be flirtatious, but not to this extent. Not to the point that he would hit on someone that was currently in a relationship. Albeit a fake one, but a relationship no less. He considered hopping off the table and confronting the two, but then the music got a little louder and everyone seemed to remember that there was some space to dance. Wooyoung included. He hopped down and crossed the room, hand sliding down to San’s hip (a bold move) with what felt like a grin on his face. “Let’s dance!” San seemed eager to comply, handing his cup off to a slightly confused Tyler before being dragged off to the impromptu dance floor. 

Wooyoung wanted to say that a lot of the actions taken were a product of the alcohol. He wouldn’t claim himself to be amazing at holding his liquor and spiked punch was no different. Especially not when he had what had to be the greatest ass pressed up against his crotch in a slow grind. He wanted to think that he could blame it on the pulse of the music and haze of the moment. It didn’t seem like San was paying him much attention, hands thrown up and a cheer ripped from him as the tempo of the song changed. Then they weren’t interlocked and he could get a moment to breathe.

It had really only been a few seconds, but he could feel his body practically burning. They’d danced together before, lazily pressing close. But that had been the brush of sides and limbs sweaty when they got tangled together. As _friends_ , and not as people faking a relationship. This was something different.

This was something he needed a drink to forget about.

Which, in hindsight, was probably made all of this that much worse. A Drunk Wooyoung had alway been...sloppy. Open. A Drunk Wooyoung corralled into playing a card game was even worse. It was how he ended up staring down at the black card in the center of a ring of people, brows furrowed in mock concentration as he staked his life - figuratively, of course - on winning the final round of a Cards Against Humanity game. He licked his lips as San situated himself beside him, brows raised and a drink in hand. They had to have been apart for all of twenty minutes, but it felt something like an eternity as the other pressed into his side to sort of fit into the circle that had formed. 

“Woo, just put down a card; you know it’s over.”

His lips twitched as he glanced up at Tyler. Smug Asshole. The man had a considerable pile of black cards in front of him; it was clear that he had won, but Wooyoung wasn’t about to admit defeat. He slammed down a card no less, satisfaction seeping in as the group went into a fit of hysterics. _An Oepidus Complex_ his card read, completing the black card’s _kid-tested, mother-approved!_ But it was a small victory in the sight of a war lost as he scooped up the one black card he’d managed to win the whole game. 

“You know the rules.” It was someone he didn’t know very well, but there was someone ominus in their voice. “Hey, San, help him out.” His thoughts weren’t so much thoughts as they were fragmented agreements of _Yes, San, please help me, best friend!_ The other had the gall to look confused, as if he wasn’t there when the punishment was explained. Oh, right; he hadn’t been.

Wooyoung swallowed, gaze expectant as someone relayed what was supposed to go down. He could see what might have been slight alarm on San’s face before things were moving and his brain was short-circuiting. Because San was soon straddling him, beer in hand as he prepared to get Wooyoung ready for his shotgun of it. Because Jehovah’s Thiccness was in his lap, legs on either side of him as he held the beer can just above his lips. He watched the other’s brows furrow, hands coming up to settle at the curve of where hips meant plush ass and he thought he might have heard some jeers at that.

It’s not long before the other has used a pair of scissors to open up the bottom, pressing it to eager lips as he opens the top and suddenly his mouth was full. He starts slightly, some of it spilling out of the corner of his lips and he gripped tighter on San. It wasn’t like he’d never chugged anything before and he wasn’t being made to do a keg stand, but there were a number of things that contributed to the mess that ensued. He was already beyond drunk with his hands kneading his best friend’s ass. The other readjusted his position, as if trying to find a way to get comfortable, and it slotted their hips close enough that he ground up into the remaining space, crotches brushing together. 

Almost done. San leaned over, lips close but whispering something encouragingly. He was more focused on this than Wooyoung was. Or playing it off as such. And maybe it was the lightheadedness getting to him, but San looked especially ethereal. Cheeks redder than before and the little imitation baby hairs from the wig sticking to his forehead. Eyes glassy from his own bout of drinking. The other gave one final “you’re doing great” and a smile as he felt the can drain before It happened.

It being a moan that could have been drowned out by the cheers if it weren’t for the fact that everyone had paused a second. If they’d kept going in their cheering, Wooyoung’s dignity could have remained in pristine condition. But they didn’t, giving every single person within earshot the ability to hear it rumble up from his throat as he ground up, once again, into San’s crotch with a particularly harsh grip.

The most embarrassing part of it was that the man receiving all of this didn’t respond in the way he would have thought. San reciprocated, the softest of mewls leaving him - _god_ from the angle he has, it was about 1000 times hotter - before they both remembered where they were. And then it wasn’t just San’s cheeks that were red, but it looked like a full body blush before he scrambled off of him. He dragged Wooyoung up - only partly saving him from flashing literally everyone with a semi in his pants - and out toward the door with a rushed “Let’s get out of here.”

“ _Fuck_.”

**Author's Note:**

> so...it's me again. with more impulse fics bc i like procrastinating my homework and rl responsibilities. please yell at me @ morbidsucre on twitter maybe i'll listen then. and don't @ me abt San's booty i know mans has a pancake butt let me live


End file.
